Hot in the City 2: Sin City Read Online Free Page B

lapels of her jacket and massage what he suspected would be an outstanding pair of breasts. As she’d recently pointed out to him, that’s where the photo stopped, but it didn’t take a lot of imagination to let his mind travel lower, to hope he got to push up her skirt and see that smoothly waxed pussy she’d so kindly fingered for him that night on the phone.
    His cock stood at full attention now, damn it. Just what he needed with three hours of work left. Then again, this wasn’t new—at Diana’s request, he’d resisted the temptation to allude to their phone sex, but ever since their conversation, he’d been battling a near-constant hard-on.
    Dave, Rick, and Blaine were all in the break room right now, having claimed they could brainstorm a layout for the stockings page better if they were munching on candy bars from the snack machine. He’d told them he’d be right behind them as soon as he finished inputting the tentative copy he’d written for Adrianna’s Lush Velvet collection, but then he’d gotten Diana’s e-mail, and the only stockings he could think about right now were on her legs.
    Did she wear stockings? The kind with lace on top? Did she use a garter belt with them, or did she wear Adrianna’s patented “Snug-n-Lacies”, that stayed up by themselves?
    Studying her picture, a hot little fantasy rose to his mind.
    T TT he guys all sat around the conference room table when Diana came marching in, wearing a conservative suit and stern, black-framed glasses, her hair pulled back in a severe bun.
    Her eyes narrowed on him. “You’ve been a very bad boy, Mr. Davenport. Your Lush Velvet copy sucks. Present your hand.”
    He held it out, palm up, and she slapped it with a ruler.
    The sting reverberated through his body, right down to his cock.
    Oh yeah. As Marc sat as his desk fantasizing, his dick got harder and harder. With another glance at the doorway, he grabbed up some tissues for later, then unzipped his pants and reached inside, taking his shaft in his hand.
    But in the fantasy, it was her hand.
    She was dragging him by it now, roughly, up to the head of the table, saying she was going to make an example of him. Releasing him from her grasp, she reached down for the hem of her skirt in a very crisp, businesslike manner, then lifted it to her hips, revealing pretty lace top stockings with a white garter belt, and no panties—only a pretty, bare pussy, a hot little slit that spread slightly to expose a sweet pink clit, just as she’d described to him on the phone. “Lick my cunt,” she demanded.
    Of course, he obeyed, sinking his tongue into her warm, salty moisture, savoring the taste and smell of her while his co-workers watched.
    “Harder!” she demanded. “You need to work harder on your writing and harder on my clit.”
    So he went at her like a man who hadn’t eaten in a week, licking and lapping and sucking, burying his face in that wet, pink paradise until her juice was all over his face.
    “Harder, you bad boy! Lick it!”
    She said it over and over, demanding he obey, and he delivered, working his tongue and lips on her cunt like never before.
    At his desk, he stroked his cock in rhythm with his imaginary licks, closing his eyes as the blood gathered hotter and hotter in his groin, sinking deeper into his fantasy. This wasn’t his normal sort of sexual daydream—he was usually more into dominance than submission—but something about Diana gave him an anything goes sort of feeling, so when the thought had come to mind, he’d just gone with it.
    Now she knelt in front of him, her face down by his stiff rod. “You’ve learned to work hard, you naughty boy, but now you’re going to learn to take what you’re given and like it.”
    “Okay,” he said.
    Somewhere in the fantasy, his pants had dropped, so she reached around and slapped his bare ass with the flat of her hand, hard. “Did I tell you to speak?”
    He almost said no, but then just shook his head.
    “You will